The studios are quiet, now, but they’ll get busier.
Thursday, September 15, 2016
I want to keep planning projects, as I’m terrified that time will get ahead of me. I’d rather sail into the end of the semester than crash.
Yesterday’s shoot was successful, thank goodness. I’m a great proponent of the planned and speedy method of doing projects. And I also want to nave new work for the visiting critics. They are coming fast and furious, so I need to have new materials as soon as possible.
I’ll have to perform some “CG” (Computer Generated) Surgery on the video. I already have, and happily it works. I essentially re-framed the shot by pushing it up 47 pixels, thereby hiding what I feel is an unattractive curve on my body as well as my shorts and leg, which were part of the shot. Unfortunately, also, the black light aspect of the piece failed: my assistant noted that he couldn’t see the stamp on my back after he placed it. Well, I thought, I’ll do it in post, so I’ll be challenged with creating a convincing “iridescent ink stamp” on my torso. It shouldn’t be to difficult, besides the fact that I have to make the image “breathe” a bit with me. I should also re-hire that guy who helped me with the first video.
Which brings be to the many critiques we have. I was considering slyly deflecting a lot of talk about my work in the class critiques by proposing some ridiculous vague and open-ended project so that the teachers and class can tear up the decoy and I can keep my other visions intact. I can make it seem, perhaps, that I “grew” when it was really just a bait-and-switch. It depends on just how devious I am, but it might be worth it to protect my work.
I didn’t talk about 630 Flushing Avenue in Brooklyn, which was apparently a Pfizer Pharmaceutical factory in one of its previous incarnations. In any case, the show I saw there was called “Re:Re:Re:” and it was a show that cleverly conformed to the somewhat dilapidated condition of the building in which it was housed.
I went to the show to see a member of the School of the Arts faculty. I wanted to support him because he is friendly and does a lot for the students.
I took a car from the other show I attended in Bushwick and ended up in an area that was not so much industrial as old-school New York, as if the run-down 1970s hadn’t ended in this area. The large building laid itself over a long block with rickety wooden-looking houses and graffiti covered bodegas. I suppose there was a decaying charm to it all, but I didn’t feel completely comfortable in the weedy concrete parking lots hemmed in by penal fences.
Getting into the building was a challenge in and of itself, as the entrance wasn’t at the actual address. Instead, I and a couple of bewildered others circled the building, following a few small and cryptic paste-up flyers that led us to the other side of the edifice. When we finally found the entrance, a bored guard ushered us in the general direction of the show, still guided by tiny photocopied signs. We went down lonely, musty halls and passed through wide open rooms where I felt somewhat vulnerable. The desolation of the place made me think about how easy it would be to be dragged to an abandoned corner and be molested against ones will. In any case, one puts those thoughts aside, when it comes to finding and experiencing art, I suppose.
Finally, we found the rag tag show. I wasn’t particularly impressed by the work: Perhaps I was put off by the disorder of the place, which was echoed in the trash-aesthetic artworks. That’s not to say that the work was bad, I suppose I was simply both overwhelmed by the cavernous building and underwhelmed by the artwork that responded to it. In any case, I saw the performance of my colleague. His was certainly one of the best pieces, as it was mysterious, perverse and sexy at the same time.
Tomorrow I am going to a bulk candy company to prepare for my next shoot.